Beyond The Rocks | Page 9

are not foolish because we are not strangers--we never
were--and we never will be."
"Are not strangers--?"
"No--do you not feel that sometimes in life one's friendships begin by
antipathy--sometimes by indifference--and sometimes by that sudden
magnetism of sympathy as if in some former life we had been very near
and dear, and were only picking up the threads again, and to such two

souls there is no feeling that they are strangers."
Theodora was too entirely unsophisticated to remain unmoved by this
reasoning. She felt a little thrill--she longed to continue the subject, and
yet dared not. She turned hesitatingly to the Count, and for the next ten
minutes Lord Bracondale only saw the soft outline of her cheek.
He wondered if he had been too sudden. She was quite the youngest
person he had ever met--he realized that, and perhaps he had acted with
too much precipitation. He would change his tactics.
The Count was only too pleased to engage the attention of Theodora.
He was voluble; she had very little to reply. Things went smoothly.
Josiah was appreciating an exceedingly good breakfast, and the playful
sallies of the fair widow. All, in fact, was couleur de rose.
"Won't you talk to me any more?" Lord Bracondale said, after about a
quarter of an hour. He felt that was ample time for her to have become
calm, and, beautiful as the outline of her cheek was, he preferred her
full face.
"But of course," said Theodora. She had not heard more than half what
the Count had been saying; she wished vaguely that she might continue
the subject of friendship, but she dared not.
"Do you ever go to Versailles?" he asked. This, at least, was a safe
subject.
"I have been there--but not since--not this time," she answered. "I loved
it: so full of memories and sentiment, and Old-World charm."
"It would give me much pleasure to take you to see it again," he said,
with grave politeness. "I must devise some plan--that is, if you wish to
go."
She smiled.
"It is a favorite spot of mine, and there are some alleés in the park more

full of the story of spring than your Bois even."
"I do not see how we can go," said Theodora. "Josiah would find it too
long a day."
"I must discuss it with your father; one can generally arrange what one
wishes," said Lord Bracondale.
At this moment Mrs. McBride leaned over and spoke to Theodora. She
had, she said, quite converted Mr. Brown. He only wanted a little
cheering up to be perfectly well, and she had got him to promise to dine
that evening at Armenonville and listen to the Tziganes. It was going to
be a glorious night, but if they felt cold they could have their table
inside out of the draught. What did Theodora think about it?
Theodora thought it would be a delicious plan. What else could she
think?
"I have a large party coming," Mrs. McBride said, "and among them a
compatriot of mine who saw you last night and is dying to meet you."
"Really," said Theodora, unmoved.
Lord Bracondale experienced a sensation of annoyance.
"I shall not ask you, Bracondale," the widow continued, playfully. "Just
to assert British superiority, you would try to monopolize Mrs. Brown,
and my poor Herryman Hoggenwater would have to come in a long,
long second!"
Josiah felt a rush of pride. This brilliant woman was making much of
his meek little wife.
Lord Bracondale smiled the most genial smile, with rage in his heart.
"I could not have accepted in any case, dear lady," he said, "as I have
some people dining with me, and, oddly enough, they rather suggested
they wanted Armenonville too, so perhaps I shall have the pleasure of
looking at you from the distance."

The conversation then became general, and soon after this coffee
arrived, and eventually the adieux were said.
Mrs. McBride insisted upon Theodora accompanying her in her smart
automobile.
"You leave your wife to me for an hour," she said, imperiously, to
Josiah, "and go and see the world with Captain Fitzgerald. He knows
Paris."
"My dear, you are just the sweetest thing I have come across this side
of the Atlantic," she said, when they were whizzing along in her car.
"But you look as if you wanted cheering too. I expect your husband's
illness has worried you a good deal."
Theodora froze a little. Then she glanced at the widow's face and its
honest kindliness melted her.
"Yes, I have been anxious about him," she said, simply, "but he is
nearly well now, and we shall soon be going to England."
Mrs. McBride had not taken a companion on this drive for nothing, and
she obtained all the information she